


Half Blood Chronicles

by Scyrus42



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, a bit of romance at the end, modded minecraft, third version of this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 19:59:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scyrus42/pseuds/Scyrus42
Summary: tell me if this sounds familiar, let me tell you a story of a boy and a girl in a world of magic and monsters. a story of love, hate, and old demons.





	

**Author's Note:**

> While this is my first post on this site, i have written several pieces on ff.net. i may or may not post them here. this is the third iteration of this story, the other two on ff.net. read the first chapter nad tell me what you think
> 
> sincerely,  
> Scyrus A. Pyro

Wet, it was the first thing I felt. Rain was pouring from overhead, not torrential, but enough to be uncomfortable. The next thing I felt was the rough metal of the manacles holding my hands behind my back. The possible reasons as to why the iron was so rough boiled down to piss-poor craftsmanship, rust, or the fact that many had worn them before me. The final thing I felt was someone pushing past me.

It was at this point I realized my eyes were closed, so I opened them. I then noticed what had pushed past me was two people, one in iron plate mail and the other in ragged clothing and shackles. The one in shackles was a woman, hair black as night. My dazed brain only just realized who she was, Andrea. Only her name came to me, followed by harrowing feelings of regret and anger.

It wasn’t as if I forgot her, but rather that my mind refused to process the current situation. A few things helped in finding out why. First, the ornate golden ring on her left hand, and second, the bloody wood block with a large axe nearby. The connection was there, but when I thought about it, I felt hot.

The woman was shoved onto the block, the man who brought her picked up the axe. I felt dazed, my mind blurring any input from the scene. A sizzling caught my attention, I looked down to see the surprising noise only to find a tiny puddle of molten metal.

The manacles holding my hands back fell to the ground, the iron melting on the ground. I looked up to see the man raise the axe. Almost reflexively, my hands lashed out from their prone position, a clawed blow striking the nearest guard. My hand didn't look like mine, it was blackened and the fingers were sharper. I looked at the guard and his face was mangled, deep gashes on his face where my blow landed and the skin looked burnt.

I looked back to be headsman bringing the axe down, I broke into a sprint. The burned area spread up my arms, orange crevices made my flesh look like lava. My lungs expelled a roar, but the voice coming from me was different. The voice was deeper, guttural, with a metallic edge making me sound like a demon. The axe came down in almost slow motion and all I heard was…

*THUD*

I opened my eyes, I was looking under my desk. A throbbing pain in my skull told me I fell, I pulled my arm out from under me and pushed up. Unfortunately, I forgot that I was under my desk and banged my already pained cranium on the oak platform. 

Once on my feet I scanned where I fell. The chair I once sat in was toppled over and had a nasty split in the wood. On top of the desk was two books, one full of notes and scribbles and the other almost blank with a large black stain on one of the open pages. I touched the stain and it was still wet, the path of black fluid leading to an overturned inkwell.

“Shit” a lazy swear left my tired lips and I stood the now empty glass bottle up. I came up with a few ways to undo the mistake caused by my falling asleep while working but I settled on just going to get more ink, I needed to anyway and I needed a reason to leave the high tech cave that I hadn’t left in months. The older book was unmarred by the spilled ink and I doubted if anything would have happened to it had the spill touched the worn pages.

In my years of studying the worn pages, I discovered that the book was nigh-invulnerable. The book in question being the one stop shop on how to turn your entire world on its head. If anyone else looked at the book, they would have thought the person who wrote it was crazy. As did I until the man who gave it to me all but snapped his fingers and proved that it was all true.

I closed the ancient tome and pocketed it while I threw the failed copy into the nearest bin. I searched the ground for my boots until I realised I was still wearing them. I grumbled and walked out of my study, stomach screaming for food. I entered one of the hundred identical tunnels that made up this fortress, ancient stone brick marred with wiring weaving its way through every crack.

I turned and began walking, not bothering to close the door. Even though it had been my idea to have my room and study this far into the fortress, I still regretted it. The halls were empty save for me and the sounds of my footsteps and machines. A small voice in my head spat ut the purposes of the different rooms as I passed them; armory, storage room, smeltery, other storage room, reactor, energistics system making the last two storage rooms useless. 

When I finally reached the kitchen, I realized the trek had not helped my hunger. I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a few pieces of meat. I did not remember if I had cooked the meat, nor did I care. Food was just reflexive, my body receives all the nutrients and energy needed from the body stone around my neck. I didn’t even remember why I ate at all.

It gives me something to do

The thought was unannounced and only served to aid in the pounding headache I still had. I shoved the possibly raw meat between two slices of bread and scarfed down the half-assed sandwich. When I had finished the “meal”, I reminded myself of my sudden ink shortage and sighed. I glanced at my right hand, checking that my rings were still on their respective fingers.

I found the one I was looking for, its purple gem glowing softly. I focused on my bedroom and with a dizzying flash, I found myself in the black and red adorned room. I slowly walked to the bathroom, silently wondering why I didn’t warp there in the first place.

Your gear

The resonating voice was welcomed this time, as I forgot that I needed some security before venturing into the woods. The splitting headache that followed however, was less appreciated. I opened the door to the stark white and blue decorated room. I walked to the sink and mirror, gazing at my face. To my surprise I found a black smear across half of my face. I touched the smear, more out of vague curiosity than care for myself.

The rough texture led me to believe that this is where the rest of the ink had gone. I washed my face off and look at it, unhindered. Unsurprisingly, my eyes were crimson and were free of bags or dark circles, the latter was due to my Life Stone regenerating me. I stripped off my sweaty clothes and took a shower. The heated water steaming away the soreness from sleeping on a chair and a desk while covered in ink.

I walked back into my room and threw on a new set of clothing. Jeans and a short sleeved shirt, they allowed for all of my armaments to be equipped without difficulty. Said armaments were hanging on hooks near my bed.

I pulled my goggles over my head, sitting nicely above my eyes. I slipped on any necessary arcane jewelry, my necklaces, my extra few rings… save for one I haven’t worn in a while. Next, I attached my Katar to my arm, the multipurpose tool slid back into a neutral position. I attached my leather belt and reached into the attached bag.

The bag being bigger on the inside, it was a tad annoying to fish out my desired item. My fingers brushed the cold glass bottle and I pulled it out. Inside the bottle was a potion to make myself look more human, red eyes tended to scare people.

I took a swig and walked to the bathroom mirror to verify the result. The mixture was bitter, but worked fast. When I saw my reflection, my eyes were already a shade of purple. With time, the potion changed my eyes to a navy blue instead of blood red.

I left my room, the familiar weight of my gear sitting comfortably. With another blink, I warped myself to the lift to the surface. I pushed a button and felt the wooden platform lurch upwards. The grinding of gears and pistons filled my ears as I rose from the depths. Nearing the top, I looked up and saw the floor in my facade house recede for the platform I rode on.

Once the platform reached its destination, I stepped out of the facade house into the thick forest surrounding it. I rummaged around in my bag once more and pulled out a map. With a minute of analysis, I found my heading and began walking. I was not confident enough in my memory to teleport myself there, nor did I want to scare the inhabitants by suddenly appearing in the center of town. 

It was not long before I heard something, heavy breathing followed by a call for help. I stopped, the breathing became clearer and sounded closer. I looked in the direction of it and saw a ragged shape. I clicked my heels and felt the hum of energy flowing through my boots. With this I took off in their direction.

I hadn’t used the power of my boots in a while, so it was somewhat hard to stop. I skidded to a halt in front of the source of the noise. A girl, looking a little younger than myself. She was dressed in little more than rags and looked ready to collapse. Her breathing was ragged as she looked at me, firey red hair framing her face. 

She opened her mouth to speak before her eyes closed and she collapsed in my arms. A quick look over showed me that she was worse for wear. Her feet were bare and caked with dirt and mud. She was pale and thin, looking malnourished. I had no idea who she was but I knew one thing.

I wasn’t getting that ink any time soon.


End file.
